


Presence of the Past

by vettac



Category: Cowboy Bebop
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-15
Updated: 2007-04-15
Packaged: 2017-10-09 04:52:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 8,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/83242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vettac/pseuds/vettac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The past comes back to haunt you, even when you acknowledge the part you played. He did. Written for LJ ficalbum community to the songs from Kill Hannah's Until There's Nothing Left of Us.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Songs That Saved Me

I do not own Cowboy Bebop or any of the song lyrics quoted.

* * *

_Froze in our memories again  
Soon you'll forget but I just can't  
I remember, remember everything  
All the times when no ever came to get me  
All the nights when I was scared  
And when it got too weird  
It was the songs that saved my life  
It was the songs that saved me_

Lyrics from Songs That Saved My Life by Kill Hannah

* * *

That was the problem. He remembered everything.

It was the song of Faye that he heard in his head. Stretched out on the couch in the common, or practicing his katas, it was Faye's song that was always foremost in his mind. It was Faye's song that kept the weirdness from overwhelming him. Her song was frozen in his memories.

The song of Faye bitching about the lack of heat on the ship, or the scarcity of food before a bounty.

The songs of Faye were playing in his head as he lay dying on the steps of the headquarters building, waiting for the blood to seep out as his life slipped away. The songs of Faye that gave him the strength to hold on, for just a little longer.


	2. Presence of the Past

I do not own Cowboy Bebop or any of the song lyrics quoted.

* * *

_Your presence of mind becomes a Presence in mind and body for good,  
so you are less affected by the negative pressures and principalities.  
Don't resent what comes to light.  
Bear the pain of failings.  
Don't blame anyone.  
Be aware of your past.  
As it comes to light don't force don't dig it up.  
Be aware of your part of the past or present trouble or involvements.  
Noting the compulsiveness of your own behavior and attitudes,  
you might then have some compassion upon those  
who mistreated you in the past.  
Can't help yourself, realize that you condemn ourselves._ __

Life in the Arctic  


* * *

The rain fell, the large heavy droplets pounding against his face so hard that they stung. He ignored the burning and trudged determinedly up the incline, the force of the wind threatening to bend his thin frame back the way he had come. In the distance, he could see the docked ship, its port bow shrouded in a thin layer of fog that had surfaced up as the sudden rain collided with the steamy atmosphere of Mars. He stopped to light up a cigarette, cupping his hands to shield the flame from the windy rain. He knew that he only postponing because he was not sure whether they would welcome the sight of him alive. Maybe they would think him a ghost. He realized that his obsession with the past that led to his actions were his to bear alone, even though, had he given them a chance, they would have had his back. And with the way that events had played out in the end, he had no one to blame but himself.

He tossed away the sodden cigarette and continued towards the Bebop. A dim light could be seen in the captain's porthole, and he wondered vaguely if Jet was preparing the ship for departure. He reached the dock, and listened for signs of the ship powering up for takeoff. He noticed that the ship had been repaired since the Red Dragon assault. He ignored the anxiety he felt within and made his way to the entrance.

_Hey Mom, I'm hom_e, he thought wryly, a half-grin adorning his face as he prepared to enter.


	3. Circle Rejoined

**Circle Rejoined**

I do not own Cowboy Bebop or any of the song lyrics quoted.

* * *

_Woke and nothing feels right  
Can't believe I made it through the night  
The sky was cracked like porcelain  
And all the souls they rose and marched again  
It's the same dream  
It goes on and on and on and on  
But this is where it ends  
This is the collapse  
This is the collapse  
So don't you close your eyes  
This is the collapse_

_Lyrics from Kill Hannah - The Collapse_

* * *

"Faye!" Jet yelled, gathering up shreds of paper as he stormed through the walkway. Faye was nowhere to be seen or heard.

"That wench," Jet grumbled as he slammed the trash into the rubbish bin. Their last bounty had gone to shit, and Faye had stormed back onto the Bebop in a foul mood, and in a bout of rage, picking up magazines, tearing them to shreds and scattering them everywhere, then disappearing somewhere in the bowels of the ship.

And now, not only did he have to clean up her mess, he'd have to figure out what they would eat for the next few days until they got a lead on any new bounties.

These days it didn't take nearly as much to feed them. The bounty payouts were larger now, since deductions for expenses and damage had decreased greatly. That was the one good thing with Spike being gone, though Jet would have greatly preferred to stretch their meals if it meant having Spike back. He knew that Faye felt the same way, although she would never say. She was pulling her weight, but with less of the wild and greedy abandon that she employed in the past; and she was mostly present at mealtimes, but she didn't eat as much as she used to. And she spent way too much time in her room, playing that damned tape over and over.

Jet dumped the trash through the air lock and headed back to the main room. He slumped down on the couch.

"Faye, where the hell are you?" he yelled again, listening for signs that she had heard him. Minutes later, she strolled in from her room, her eyes puffy from sleep or tears.

"I heard you the first time," she snapped as she sat down next to him. "What's a girl have to do to get any sleep around this place?"

"You weren't sleeping," he stated, scrutinizing her.

Faye growled and leaned forward, rifling through her glossy publications on the table. Jet stared at her a moment longer, then got up, flexing his cybernetic arm.

"There's a plate for you in the fridge," he murmured as he headed towards the bonsai room.

Faye was silent, grateful that he did not pursue the matter. They both knew that she had not slept well in a long while, not since… She got up and went into the kitchen, realizing that she hadn't eaten all day. She pulled out the plate of noodles and scooped up a handful, tilting back her head as she slid them down her throat.

"Gonna save some of that for me?"

Faye froze at the sound of that voice. She whirled around, gulping down the mass of noodles that stuck in her throat.

He was standing there with that familiar idiotic grin. He was as sneaky as ever; she'd never even heard a sound. She narrowed her eyes as her hand automatically reached over to connect with his cheek.

"Where the hell have you been?" she hissed, snapping back her hand to rub her sore knuckles, her eyes wandering over his face that she had thought she would never see again.

Spike gave her a half-smile, rubbing where her hand had connected.

"I missed you too, Faye," he said softly, holding her still with his eyes.

Faye met his gaze, then looked away as the pounding in her chest threatened to rise into her throat along with her dinner. She swallowed the sudden aching and concentrated on rubbing her reddened knuckles.

"So, are you so pissed that you would let me starve?" Spike teased, tugging gently at the errant lock of hair at her ear.

Startled, her eyes darted up to his face at the unexpected contact. He looked almost the same, minus the mocking expression that he had always seemed to reserve just for her.

"Get away, asshole," she growled, pulling away as she felt a blush rise to her cheeks. "You have no right to expect anything from me!"

Spike leaned back, not breaking his gaze. "I know," he murmured. "I never said I did."

"So, where were you?" she asked, less vehemently this time. She wanted to tell him how much she had missed him, but the words refused to leave her lips.

He sighed and his eyes slid away from her questioning gaze. He wasn't ready to talk about this, not with her, not with anyone. It was bad enough that he had survived despite his best efforts, and talking about it would only dredge up memories that he struggled to keep dormant.

"Maybe I'll tell you one day," he said finally, looking back at her.

"Yeah, right," she said sarcastically. "I won't hold my breath waiting."

She swirled out the kitchen towards her room, well aware that she was leaving a nearly full plate of dinner for him to wolf down. He looked like he needed more than her anyway.

"Thanks, Faye," he said to her back, too softly for her to hear.

"You're welcome," she whispered to no one in particular as she entered her room. As the door closed, she leaned against it and closed her eyes, relief spreading through her like a warm fuzzy green blanket.


	4. Bloodletting

**Bloodletting**

* * *

I do not own Cowboy Bebop or any of the song lyrics quoted.**  
**

_It looked like the perfect day  
in photos we were smiling  
but something was wrong in you  
inside you were suffering  
lungs were barely moving  
I wanted to comfort you ohh no  
so I said shhhhhh  
oh you'll fix all my cracked broken bones  
and replace all my black poison blood_

_Song is Black Poison Blood_ _ by Kill Hannah  
_

* * *

He awoke with a gasp. Struggling to breathe, he sat up as the sweat trickled down his neck, leaving the mass of mossy hair in damp curls. After what felt like an eternity, his constricted airway eased, allowing sweet breaths of air to enter his lungs. He inhaled a few shaky breaths as his body relaxed and wiped the sweat from his face.

Spike couldn't remember what he had dreamt, but he figured that it had something to do with his past life. Breathing deeply, he forced his mind to focus on anything else to chase the demons away. As he looked around the room, his eyes fell upon a photo taped to the wall above his desk. Although he was too far away to actually see the picture from the bed, the details were etched in his mind.

The picture had been taken a few months before, during a stopover on Ganymede. Edward had been running around the deck with a camera around her neck, taking pictures of the floor, the door leading to the storage area, Jet's cybernetic arm, Faye's suspenders, Spike's big feet. She now wanted to take "candy-dandy" shots of her Bebop "family," much to their consternation. No one particularly liked posing in front of a camera, and as much as told her so by their protests and their grimaces. Edward's usually impenetrable demeanor was absent; she had looked at them all as if she wanted to cry.

Spike professed to dislike kids, among other things, like pets and tomboys, but his heart twisted at the look on Edward's face. So, exhaling in an overly dramatic huff, he sauntered over to Faye, and in a sudden move, grabbed her around the waist and proceeded to tickle her. As she sputtered her surprise, he peeked over at Ed, and with a nod of his head gestured to her. A huge smile plastered across her face, she rushed in closer and snapped the picture.

"Edward!" Faye complained in a mix of giggles and fury. "Spike, if you don't get the hell off me…"

* * *

Spike smiled to himself and rubbed his hand over his unshaven chin as the memory replayed in his mind, but the dark edges of his nightmare seeped through, rattling his nerves. A sudden knock at his door caused his heart to race. _Damn, I must be losing it_, he thought, letting out a shaky laugh.

The door slid open and light from the corridor illuminated Faye as she poked her head into the room.

"I thought I heard something…" she froze when she saw his face.

He glared at her mutely.

"What's wrong with you?" she demanded, walking over to him and leaning over to peer into his face.

He opened his mouth to fire off a retort, but for some reason, the words stuck in his throat.

"You okay?" she asked him, unusual concern evident in her voice as she sat on the edge of the bed.

He looked up at her, tears welling up in his eyes. _Not now. _He shook his head, cursing to himself as he fought them back.

Faye looked at him for a moment, then leaned into him, wrapping her arms around him. Spike closed his eyes and allowed himself the luxury of being enveloped in her warmth. He relaxed against her as she gently stroked his curls, comforting him as a mother would a child.

"Shhh, shhh, it's okay," she whispered, "it's going to be okay," rubbing his back soothingly as she chased his nightmares away.


	5. Little Girl Lost

I do not own Cowboy Bebop or any of the song lyrics quoted.

* * *

_Open your eyes  
we're here are you OK  
I'd give all I have  
just to get you to stay  
for so many years in my dreams things were changing  
but always your face was the same_

_love you to death  
love you to death_

_When you opened up  
what you said it was so sad  
that no one would notice  
if you ran away  
then your mascara it ran  
don't you vanish tonight I'm alive just to say_

_love you to death  
love you to death_

_Lyrics by Kill Hannah, song Love You to Death _

* * *

As the army of centipedes marching along his left side, inching its way up his back, he struggled to move. His eye twitched as the army marched higher up towards his neck. Those bugs had been extinct since the Gate incident, so what were they doing on his ship, crawling on his body? He squirmed as one of the creatures veered off from the main battalion to appear on the right side of his neck, traveling up towards his mouth. In panic, his eyes shot open and he hazily grasped that it had been a dream.

The air in the room was oppressive, and as he wiped his hand across his brow, he was surprised by the amount of moisture that came away. It suddenly hit him that the ship's ventilation system had malfunctioned. He'd just had the thing overhauled on Earth a few weeks back, waiting for Doohan to complete repairs (again) to the Swordfish. Nope, couldn't be time for repairs already; the old man was pretty thorough. That left only one possibility.

"Faye..." Jet mumbled to himself as he slid his legs to the floor. He shuffled over to the door and banged the button to exit the room. He stormed down the corridor towards Faye's room to chastise her about messing around with the ship's controls, but stopped when he noticed her door was ajar. Faye guarded her privacy like a hawk and would never leave her door open, whether or not she was in the room. And he didn't need to look in the hangar to know that her ship was gone. Frowning, he headed back the way he came to check the climate control panel. Yep, just like he thought, no coolant in the system.

_That wench_, he thought, slamming the panel shut. He heard the hiss of a door opening and looked down the hall to see Spike emerging from his room.

"Where the hell is the air on this dump?" Spike asked in irritation, one large hand pushing damp green curls from his face as he dragged himself over to Jet.

"One word," Jet told him, choosing to ignore Spike's insult to his ship. "Faye. _And _she took off."

Spike's eyes narrowed. "Shit, where'd she go this time?" he demanded. "Damn woman waits until we're on the hottest goddamn planet in the solar system to suck out the coolant?"

"Go find her then," Jet teased. "She's _your _woman."

"Yeah right," he scoffed, glaring at Jet. "As if."

Jet disregarded the snide remark. "Anyway, somebody needs to go after her. You know that's what she wants anyway." He walked down the hallway and into the common room, dropping into a chair near the computer table.

Spike glanced disbelievingly at Jet. He followed him into the room, taking his own seat on the couch.

"So, what, we're just gonna chase after her?"

"The girl has issues, you know that, Spike," Jet chided him. "Every once in a while, she needs to be sure that we really want her here."

Spike grinned. "Do we?"

Jet gazed at Spike, his eyes boring into the younger man's. "Do _you_?"

Spike grin faded and he felt his face grow warm. "What are you saying, Jet?" he demanded.

"Well," Jet began, rubbing his head and staring into space. "Let's see, girl saves food for you when you come home late, soothes you out of those nightmares of yours almost every night-"

"Fuck you, Jet."

Spike wasn't surprised at how much Jet had noticed, him being ex-ISSP and all. But he didn't have to be so damned annoying about it.

"I'm just saying, seems like you're the one who'll suffer the most if we don't go get her. If _you _don't go bring her back."

"C'mon Jet, you're kidding right?"

Jet frowned. "Do I look like I'm kidding?"

Spike was silent, his thought flashing momentarily to one of his really bad nights. Faye had been right there to calm him, as she had been on so many other nights. As much as he hated to admit it, he owed her.

Okay, Jet was right. He needed her.


	6. Home

**Home**

I do not own Cowboy Bebop or any of the song lyrics quoted.

* * *

_It's serious, I've got to find you  
When I start to feel this way  
You mesmerize me, all the time  
And I'll hold on 'til tonight  
But that's too long  
'Cause you're an angel  
Oh oh, you're an angel  
My crazy angel  
My crazy angel  
_

_I hold on so hard  
And pray that I won't say something wrong  
I look at the stars  
And dream that the universe was ours _

_My crazy angel _

* * *

Hours later, Spike lay sulking on the cot in his too small room, trying to drown out the drone of Jet's words with his own thoughts. It wasn't working.

_My _woman, he scoffed, recalling Jet's directive that _he _had to go bring her back_. Yeah, right. _If Faye had been here to hear that conversation, she would have pitched a fit, and he didn't need to guess whose head would have been directly in the path of her wrath.

He sat up and swung his legs to the floor, rubbing his head absently with one large hand. Midway through the gesture, he paused abruptly when he realized that it was exactly what Jet would do when he was worried.

_Hmmph, I will not go chasing after her, _he thought heatedly. _She can come home on her own when she's good and damned ready_.

He glanced at the clock on his desk, noting that it was long after midnight, and she wasn't back yet. He got up and shuffled to the door. Faye _did_ have a knack for getting into trouble when he and Jet weren't around. She could have run into something that she couldn't handle, and her pride being what it was, she'd be too damned stubborn to call for help.

Maybe she was in trouble.

Or maybe she wasn't planning on coming back.

_Well, damn. _

Maybe he should just go find her.


	7. Little Girl Found

**Little Girl Found**

I do not own Cowboy Bebop or any of the song lyrics quoted.

* * *

_It's just one of those days where nothing feels right  
It's just one of those days  
I'm never going home  
I walk among the ghosts  
Of all my former loves  
And all my future selves  
This is the final straw  
I'll take you by the throat  
I'll shake you like a doll  
Just feed my starving heart  
Lyrics by Kill Hannah, song is The Collapse_

* * *

Faye looked around for the bartender, raising her perfectly manicured hand for service. She slumped over on her bar stool as she waited for him to refill her drink. She didn't know what to do now. She couldn't go back to the ship, not now, not when he was there. She had another dream last night, a memory from her life. She had been happy, vibrant, and she was loved. Then she woke up, and the realization hit her anew that she could never go back, she would never be that happy again.

The bartender refilled her glass, and she impatiently motioned him to remain as she lifted the glass to her lips, downing the contents in one gulp. She raised her eyes to him, waiting for another refill. With an impassive expression, the bartender poured her another, then moved away to tend to another customer.

Faye took a smaller gulp, morosely returning to her thoughts. She hated when she felt like this, it wasn't like there was anything that she could do to change things. She hated the hopelessness of it all. She remembered reading science fiction as a teen. Well, she was in the future now, why the hell hadn't anyone in this god forsaken time period figure out how to travel through time? Wasn't that what the gates were for? This place was nothing like the worlds she had read about.

She knocked back the rest of her drink, hating herself for remembering. She would have been been better off remaining an amnesiac.

Dimly she heard the sound of he bar door opening. She halfheartedly hoped that one of them would come looking for her, but she didn't hold out too much hope for that. And the curly headed idiot only tolerated her because she made his nightmares disappear. _What am I, some kind of stand-in dream catcher?_ she thought as she reached for her glass, forgetting it was empty. "Just like my life," she mumbled aloud. "Why should I go back there? They don't even like me that much anyway."

"You're wrong," a voice whispered in her ear. Startled from her reverie, she whirled around as the curly headed idiot himself took a seat next to her.

"What the hell are you doing here, following me?" she demanded, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Yes." He gazed at her intently, the mocking smile absent from his face. "I'm here to bring you home."

"Why?" she asked suspiciously, waiting for the punchline.

"I need you," he answered simply.


	8. Boys and Girls

I do not own Cowboy Bebop or any of the song lyrics quoted.

* * *

_I want a girl with lips like morphine,  
Knock me out every time they touch me.  
I wanna feel a kiss just crush me,  
And break me down._

_Knock me out (knock me out),  
Knock me out (knock me out).  
Cause I've waited for all my life,  
To be here with you tonight._

_I want a girl with lips like morphine,  
Blow a kiss that leaves me gasping._

_And I wanna feel that lightning strike me,  
And burn me down.  
Lyrics Kill Hannah -- Lips Like Morphine_

* * *

Faye looked up at him uncertainly as his words sank in. She opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again. This was unfamiliar territory; Spike admitting to anything was unheard of, and him confessing to her was like a shock to the system. Of the two men aboard the ship, she least expected Spike to be the one to come looking for her – after all, Jet was supposed to be the sensitive one. His words left her feeling vulnerable, and she didn't like him having that kind of power over her emotions. She couldn't think of anything to say, so she glared at him.

She slid from the stool and turned on her heels to walk away, knowing what his reaction would be when she turned her back on him.

Sure enough, she was stopped in her tracks when he grabbed her wrist, pulling her back. She whirled around to face him, green eyes blazing.

"Don't walk away from me, dammit," he growled, tightening his grip.

"Let go," she snarled, pulling out of his grasp.

"So why the hell did you take off _this_ time?" he demanded, glaring back. "What's wrong with you?"

"I could ask _you_ the same thing," she snapped back, shoving him vehemently.

Spike stared back at her as he tried not to think about why he'd even gone searching for her. With Faye standing right in front of him with a smug look on her face, he wondered how he ever thought that he needed her. _She is the biggest pain in the ass, _he thought irritably. He frowned and grabbed her shoulders, trying to shake the answer into her. Faye gave a small grunt of pain until he lessened his grip. He bent down to look into her eyes, his own sudden anger dissolving at the doubt he saw there. She squirmed nervously under his intense stare but boldly kept her eyes locked on his.

"Why can't you just stay on the ship?" he sighed, conscious of how fragile she felt beneath his hands.

"Why can't you answer me?" she murmured as she dropped her eyes and edged away from him.

Spike tightened his grip, preventing her escape, and leaned forward to brush the corner of her mouth with his lips, smiling as she gasped and stared up at him.

"Does this answer your question?" he asked softly and swallowed her surprise with a kiss.


	9. Eyes Wide Open

I do not own Cowboy Bebop or any of the song lyrics quoted.

* * *

**Chapter Nine: Eyes Wide Open**

_Sometimes when this place gets kind of empty,  
Sounds of their breath fades with the light. _ _  
I think about the loveless fascination,  
_ _Under the milky way tonight.  
_ _Wish I knew what you were looking for.  
Might have known what you would find. _   
_Wish I knew what you were looking for.  
Might have known what you would find._

_Lyrics - Under the Milky Way_

* * *

The pod of the Redtail closed with a hiss, and Faye wearily slumped against the glass, her hands curling into fists as she recalled the mysterious smile that Spike had given her. Something in the way he had looked at her had made her breath catch, something in the hidden depths of his eyes that hinted at something that he wouldn't say.

Faye went rigid at the contact as she glanced up at him in confusion, eyes wide.

"So, Romani, cat got your tongue?" he asked, watching her, a faint smile curling at the edge of his lips.

Faye tried pulling away, but he tightened his grip, trapping her wrists within his hands.

"Once there was a tiger striped cat … " he continued softly.

Hearing those words, Faye felt her eyebrow begin to twitch, and she glanced back up at him with narrowed eyes. He'd told that cat story to Jet when he thought he was leaving for good; she could not believe that he thought she would stay quiet for a retelling. She fought the urge to punch something, preferably his face, since unfortunately, her hands were tied up in his.

As Spike felt her small hands tighten into fists, he smiled, knowing how much she probably wanted to punch his lights out at that moment. Faye was tiny compared to most men, with a lot more strength than men gave her credit for, which she used to her advantage; he, however, wasn't one of them. Still, he made sure that his grip was secure.

"What do you want, Spike?" she snarled at him with narrowed eyes.

"Come back to the ship."

"Why?"

"I've already told you why."

"Why should I believe anything _you_ have to say?"

"Jet wants you to come back. Believe me, I'm only doing this for him," Spike winced inwardly, realizing that he had slipped up. His thoughts drifted momentarily as he wondered why he was even bothering trying to convince her to return. Still, he wasn't the type to back down from a challenge, and he wasn't about to back off now.

"So?" he grinned idiotically and leaned in towards her face.

"So that kiss was from Jet, too?" she spat back, discreetly testing to see whether his grip lessened at all.

She noticed the almost imperceptible twitch at the corner of his eye, and knew that she'd thrown him, even if just a little. She took the opportunity to wrench herself from his grasp, ignoring his surprised protest, and she dashed out of the tavern to retreat to the safety of her ship.

* * *

The pod of the Redtail closed with a hiss, and she wearily slumped against the glass, her hands curling into fists as she recalled the mysterious smile he had given her. Something in the way he had looked at her had made her breath catch, something in the hidden depths of his eyes that hinted at something that he wouldn't say.

She could still feel the impact of his mouth, could still remember the feel of his lips against hers. She rubbed her lips with trembling fingers, as if to erase the taste, of cigarettes with a hint of finality, or possibility.

He had called her Romani. How could she know that she would be able to read so much in a touch?

She had fallen under the spell of his tragedy and his charm

It had scared her. _He_ scared her.

* * *

Spike cut the Swordfish's engine and leaned back, closing his eyes as he absorbed the sounds around him, hangar doors slowly grinding shut, the low hum of the magnetic field activating, and finally, the click of lights coming on, one by one, until the bay was filled with dim amber lights.

He took off his gloves and folded them, cramming them in the small cavity beneath the console. He turned to look at Faye's ship.

The Redtail was docked in the bay adjacent to his; he waited for the sound of the hatch opening. It was as silent as the Swordfish. He reached a long arm to flip on the communication panel.

"Faye, you alive over there?"

There was no answer.

Sighing, he flicked the switch and opened his hatch. He swung his legs out and onto the deck, closing the hatch behind him. He slowly walked over to the Redtail, stopping when Faye's profile came into view.

She sat still, staring at the controls in front of her. Either she hadn't heard him approach or she was pointedly ignoring him.

He growled softly, then took a deep, calming breath. He reached in his pocket and drew out a cigarette. He lit it and inhaled, turning to lean against her ship.

_So, she's not talking to me._ He took another pull of the cigarette. He figured he'd just wait her out.

As the minutes dragged on, the hum of the Bebop shifted subtly as the environmental controls adjusted automatically to the variation in the ship's temperature.

Spike took one last pull of his cigarette, then let it drop to the ground, crushing it out with the tip of his boot. He turned to peer into Faye's window. She was wearing such a melancholy expression that he felt a little pang of guilt, wondering for a moment if he was the source of that sadness.

He knocked on the window politely. _Well, this certainly is familiar,_ he thought as he waited for her to acknowledge his presence.

* * *

A tap on the pod glass snapped her out of her reverie, and she twisted around to see Spike as he prepared to knock on the glass again.

"Open up," he mouthed silently, watching her with an unfathomable expression.

She stared back, expressionless, then shook her head as she turned away.

"Open the damn hatch, Faye." His annoyance was evident as he knocked harder on the glass.

She knew he wouldn't leave her alone until she did so. Finally she slammed on the button, and as the air from shuttle bay wafted into the pod, she leaned back against her seat and closed her eyes.

"What?" she asked wearily, suddenly tired of it all, tired of him, tired of trying to figure him out.

Faye turned her head sharply, her eyes narrowing as she scanned his face.

"I came back, what else do you want?"

Spike leaned against the open hatch, his hands in his pockets. "Faye." His voice was muted, as if from somewhere far away. "There's something I've been trying to tell you."

Faye listened, her eyes still closed. She didn't really care what he had to say. She needed to get away from him, from the ship, to be somewhere else where she felt in control of her life. She wasn't in control around him. He made her ache, and she was tired of worrying over him, worrying about what he was thinking, worrying about how she felt about him. She didn't want to feel anything for him. She just wanted to move on with her life.

She turned towards him, waiting for him to continue.

He drew in a sigh as he felt her eyes on him.

"When I came back, when I saw you standing there ...", he began, avoiding her eyes. "I thought, _why the hell is she still here?_ But when I looked at your face -- after you hit me -- " he grinned at her as she huffed and crossed her arms over her chest.

He stared down at his boots, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"When I looked at your face, all I could think was, _she's still here_. And I was ... okay with that."

Faye let the meaning of his words sink in. Neither of them knew what to say, each unsure of the other.

Finally, Spike broke the silence.

"So, are you coming back?" he asked, still looking down.

"Yeah," she answered quietly.


	10. I Believe

I do not own Cowboy Bebop or any of the song lyrics quoted.

* * *

_I need you to believe in me_ _   
_ _and I'm not running anymore  
_ _I'll stand to face it all  
I'll fight for every breath  
_ _until there's nothing left of us  
I need you to believe_

_Lyrics by Kill Hannah - Believer_

_   
_

* * *

_  
_

"So, what happened back there?" Faye asked as she followed Spike through the doorway that led to the common room.

They were just returned from a stake-out on Callisto. The bounty was a 10,000-woolong bounty head named Andalf Gandaamen, a smooth-talking small-time criminal wanted for embezzlement of funds from a biotech company. She and Spike had chased him all the way to the frigid crater town of Jumo, where there was nothing to be found except for broken glass and broken lives crushed together in a mucky mess, making them all edgy and irritable. Just before cornering Gandaamen in an abandoned warehouse on the rough outskirts of the docking region, he'd said something to Spike that only the two of them could hear. Whatever was said, it ticked Spike off something good, and it took the strength of both Jet and herself to calm Spike down so that Gandaamen stayed alive long enough for them to collect on the bounty on his head. Afterwards, back on the Bebop, she had asked him about what had happened, but he adamantly refused to talk about it.

"Not now, Faye," he grumbled in that deep voice of his. His trademark aloofness was surprisingly absent, though she knew that he was deliberately trying to put her off.

"Oh, keep your shirt on," she retorted, glaring daggers into his back as he shuffled over to the worn yellow couch.

He ignored her and sank down into the cushions and closed his eyes as if preparing for a long nap. After all of the time they'd spent together on this ship, she knew that he was trying to piss her off by ignoring her.

She sat on the steps and pulled a nail file from her pocket. Bounty hunting was hell on her nails and she liked her hands to look good. As she buffed, she looked over at the couch, watching him from under her lashes as he lay with his hands clasped behind his head. He wasn't sleeping, that she knew.

Spike had his dark side, brooding and uncommunicative, when he even shut Jet out, choosing to lie motionless on the couch, staring up at the ceiling fan as if the answer to life would be found somewhere in those revolving blades. Faye hated it when he was like this, but, she reasoned, life inside a syndicate must have made him like that, living on the front line where showing any emotion or divulging any personal information could cost you your life, or even worse, loss of respect of the others. Since she had known him, he'd never been that much of a talker, and he never told her anything about himself. What little that she did know, she had gleaned from the situations that they had found themselves in during the course of their lives on the Bebop.

Spike didn't like showing weakness of any kind. Even though he no longer lived the syndicate life, remnants still lived within him, leaving him shell shocked and emotionally damaged. He rarely allowed anyone to get a glimpse of what he held inside. She understood because she could be like that sometimes as well.

She turned her attention back to her nails, stealing a glance every now and then at his face. When his silence became unbearable, she got up and stomped over to the couch, standing over him. He wasn't in the syndicate any more, dammit, and his silence was making her angry.

"I want to know _right_ now, what happened to you back there?" she pressed as she waited for him to answer her. When no answer was forthcoming, she leaned forward and sideswiped his head with the flat of her hand, then leaned back on her heels and waited, her hands on her hips.

Spike's eyes sprung open and he stared up at her in disbelief, a spark of suppressed amusement flaring up in his natural eye. His thin lips curled into a half grin.

"Well?" She demanded tersely. "Spit it out already."

Spike started to speak, but seemed to think better of it. "Faye, didn't your mother tell you that patience is a virtue?"

"Idiot," Faye scoffed. "You know I don't remember anything from my other life."

He watched her for a moment. "Yeah," he said softly, regret battling for its position to replace the aloof expression on his face. He reached up and grabbed her hand, pulling her down to sit next to him.

She glared at him, insult ready to fly from her mouth.

"Give me a break and chill, Faye," he said, meeting her gaze. He released her arm and leaned back, not breaking eye contact.

Disconcerted, she broke the stare as the retort died on her lips. He obviously was not going to tell her anything, so she chose to ignore him instead. _I wonder,_ she mused as she lost herself in a sudden memory. _What would I have been like if I had never gotten on that shuttle?_

Instead, here she was some fifty odd years beyond her time, sitting next to a tight-lipped bounty hunter who, except for the hair and the skinny legs and, well everything, at least physically, was so much like her it was scary.

She thought back to the day he had left, when she had tried telling him about her returning memories, those fleeting remembrances coming back in incomplete drifts and wisps and the feeling of belonging. Since he came back, she noticed that the boys more often "forgot" to remind her that she was not a part of the crew, and treated her like one of them.

"Stop staring", Spike mumbled, eyes closed.

"How do you know I'm looking at you?" she snarled, her cheeks reddening. She didn't even realize that she'd been watching him and she wondered how his senses were so acute even when he looked like he was sleeping.

"You're not a very quiet watcher, Faye," he retorted, cracking open an eye to peer at her. "I can hear you looking from way over here." He closed his eyes again. "Me on the other hand," he continued as he stretched his long legs forward to plop them on the table before him. "I was born to hear all and see all."

"Yeah right," she said sarcastically. "As much as _you_ sleep."

"Don't hate me because I'm better at it than you," he told her. "Now leave me in peace."

Faye looked around for something to throw at him. Spying his cigarettes on the table, she grinned. She'd found something better, namely, his nearly full pack that she'd smoke up instead. She cunningly reached over to snag the pack, and jumped when, out of nowhere, his hand slapped down on top of hers.

"No, you don't," he drawled lazily, sliding the pack out from under her hand.

She glared at him, miffed at not being quicker than him, since she didn't have any more of her own.

"Aww, come on Spike, have a heart and spare me a few," she whined, trying to wheedle her way into his cold heart.

"Get your own."

That was when the sweet sense of belonging hit home.


	11. Talking Back to the Night I

I do not own Cowboy Bebop or any of the song lyrics quoted.

* * *

_Just let go,  
Run  
There are whispering,  
Never surrender,  
Never give in._

_Lyrics Kill Hannah -- Sleep Tight_

* * *

Faye stretched langourously on a lounger on her private beach, drenched from the neck down in the melon suntan oil that she'd picked up that morning.

She wore a ridiculously skimpy bikini and a contented smile on her face. The island awash in verdant green and turquoise, a steamy breeze washed ashore, and as she breathed in the salty aroma of the sea air she could detect the faint smells of fish cooking from somewhere on the island.

She stirred slightly as she dreamt, floating just beneath the surface of consciousness, until the dream fading slowly into present reality and she was back in her room aboard the Bebop. Gradually she became aware of a warm presence at her back, and she groaned.

_Damn that Ein! How did he get in here?_ She wriggled backwards to push the mutt away.

"Get your ass out of my bed Ein!" she protested, nudging harder. To her surprise, she did not hear a squeak but a deep grunt.

"What the-" she shot up to peer behind her. She nearly jumped out of her skin.

Definitely not Ein – too long, too large, and Ein certainly hadn't sprouted messy green fur overnight. Spike was curled on his side facing her, his head sunk into the feather pillow – _her _feather pillow.

Faye shoved him. He grunted but didn't move. She elbowed him in the chest. "Spike, wake up!"

He cracked open one eye and squinted at her, his mouth turned down into a pout. "Quit yapping, I'm trying to sleep." He turned over and slammed the pillow over his head.

She stared at his back, her hand itching to move. "Spike, what are you doing in here?" she asked, suspicion bordering on disgust in her voice

"Looks to me like I'm tryin' to sleep," he mumbled from beneath the pillow.

"You can't sleep in here. You have your own room." She leaned over and pushed him towards the edge of the narrow bed. _Gods, he's heavy._

Spike gripped the edge of the bed to keep from falling out as the pillow fell to the floor. "So you're kicking a tired saved-your-ass bounty hunter who needs his sleep out of a warm, comfortable snooze-"

"Yes." Faye responded through clenched teeth. Already the tension was setting in, washing away all the benefits that her peaceful dream had brought her. And it was entirely his fault.

"Aww, Faye, be a pal," Spike shifted slowly, turning to squint up at her.

"Why are you here?" she asked harshly, eyes burning into his.

He stared back, refusing to break eye contact. "Don't you remember?" he teased, donning that insufferable smile that she despised.

Her glare faltered for just a second. Then in a flash she grabbed her pillow, mashing it into his face.

His survival instincts immediately kicked into gear as he swiftly sprang up and grabbed her shoulders, slamming her against the bed.

"What are you doing, Faye?" he fumed. "Are you trying to kill me?"

She tensed and bent at the knee to hit him where it would cause damage, but he blocked her attempt, pinning her in place by her wrists. She struggled to free herself, but his angry grip was tight. Knowing that she could not best him on even on an ordinary day, much less when he was this pissed, she went limp as she gazed up at him impassively, a look that she knew he hated.

"I just thought I'd help you achieve your desire to die, Spike."

Spike scowled and released her, falling back against the bed. "Faye, go away. Leave me alone."

She sat up and moved to the foot of the bed, putting a little distance between them as she rubbed her wrists where he'd gripped them. She would probably have bruises there by the next day.

"This is my room. _You_ leave," she said to him.

He watched her with the expression that she called his "syndicate look." She tried not to squirm under his gaze.

"Get out so that I can get dressed." she said defiantly, trying to disguise her discomfort.

"Alright." He sat up abruptly, swinging his legs to the floor. "Be a bitch."

He stalked to the door and slammed on the panel, not sparing her a second glance.

Faye watched his retreating figure, feeling a sense of defeat as she watched him walk away.


	12. Talking Back to the Night II

I do not own Cowboy Bebop or any of the song lyrics quoted.

_In flashes of lightning  
_ _You will shine  
_ _Do as you want  
Do what you want_

* * *

Spike stormed through the hallway and descended the stairs towards the common. He grabbed the box of cigarettes from the table and slumped down into the couch. He lit up and took a deep drag, exhaling smoke and some of his tension from dealing with Faye.

He should have known better than to crash in her room last night. The woman's moods switched on and off like a damn Christmas tree.

The Bebop was docked at Ganymede Bay on a warm, muggy evening. The crew was ecstatic after their second successful hunt in less than 72 hours, and the occasion called for alcoholic celebration. They even had an excess of woolongs after the bills had been paid and the storeroom replenished, so they had plopped themselves on deck, armed with a full case of premium Ganymede scotch, courtesy of one of Jet's ISSP contacts.

Amidst silly jokes and maniacal giggles over everything from the size of the Ganymede moon to the wash of the waves, the liquor flowed quickly and their spirits were high. By the time they were halfway through the fourth bottle, they decided (or rather, their drunken, spinning heads did) that it was time to turn in for the early morning. Spike had snagged the half-empty bottle to stash away in his room for some future celebration. As they all headed towards their respective rooms to sleep off the merriment, Spike, in a moment of alcohol-induced generosity and goodwill, decided to guide Faye to her room.

It could have been because she was walking so unsteadily that he thought she'd crash into the wall before she reached her door.

Or it could have been that the mere thought of walking the extra steps to his room, just down the hall from hers, seemed too much of an effort.

Whatever the reason, once he had delivered her safely to her door, he decided to finagle his way into her room with the enticement of sharing his bottle of scotch with her.

After that, everything was a bit of a blur, although he did remember Faye turning on the little radio in her room to a station playing songs that they both could sing to. And vaguely he remembered stretching out at the foot of her bed, assuring her that he was just going to close his eyes for a minute and then head down the hall to his own room. She had been surprisingly agreeable to this and had curled up at the other end of the bed. Somewhere along the way he nodded off and so, apparently, did she.

Then this morning happened.

Thinking about how she had treated him produced an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach, and he was a little surprised. He couldn't believe that he actually felt a little hurt by her reaction. It wasn't like he would have tried to take advantage of her; he valued his limbs too much for that. And anyway, he liked her.

For one, no one else could match him drink for drink.

He liked the fact that after partnering with her on their bounty hunts they would head back to the ship to work off the excess adrenalin by playing cards. Despite of the fact that she cheated at cards, he was a cheat too and let her beat him sometimes because he liked the devious, triumphant smile that would appear on her face when she slapped down the winning hand.

Because, despite his complaints that she was a mooch, a cheat, and a selfish bitch, he never could tell her how much he liked hanging out with her.

Frustrated, he closed his eyes and took a deep drag, choking on the smoke when he looked up to see that Faye had entered the common room. She stood at the top of the stairs, watching him silently. His eyes locked onto hers. He swallowed and willed his nervousness to calm as they stared at each other. Finally, he spoke first since it was obvious that she would not.

"So, Faye …" he began, frowning at her.

"So, Spike." She glared back.

She sighed, coming down the stairs to join him on the couch.

"Got another one of those?" She refused to look at him, her eyes on the ceiling as she held out her hand and waited.

Spike stared at her momentarily, then shot her an unguarded, spontaneous grin and placed a cigarette in her palm.


End file.
